


From A Different Point of View

by GabsHardy



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, Multiple Perspectives, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-16 09:12:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8096377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GabsHardy/pseuds/GabsHardy
Summary: Outsider perspectives on the changing nature of the relationship between Erin Gilbert and Jillian Holtzmann.





	1. Abby Yates

**Author's Note:**

> I thought it'd be fun to look at Erin and Holtz from the eyes of those around them. This will likely be 5 chapters; each one is from the POV of a different character at a different point in their relationship. It is all written in 2nd person; I know some people don't care for that, so there's your warning. The POV character will be identified by the chapter title. Tenses will also change from one chapter to another. I'm about half done with the rest of the chapters, so anticipate posting probably every other day unless I just get carried away.

You’re the one who knows these two women best. Or, at least, you’ve known them each longer than anyone else has - you’re starting to see that maybe they now know each other better than you ever could. There was a time that thought made you jealous; from the first word Holtzmann spoke to Erin, you could see the attraction. Erin had already burned you once, and your mind didn’t take long to conjure up images of Holtz following her lead, abandoning you in favor of the first person who’d abandoned you.

Even once you’d all saved the world and one another, and you felt certain that it was a true team that wasn’t going to just disappear one sunny afternoon, your doubts lingered. Your friendship with Erin was on its way to being repaired; your connection with Holtzmann hadn’t been severed. But watching them interact was a whole new level; they’d known each other such a short time, but the trust and tenderness was so clear. It had taken months for Holtz to accept so much as a hug from you, and yet she didn’t hold back from physical affection with Erin. Jealousy had burned deep in your gut, but at the same time, a strange feeling of hope had taken root in your soul. The wildly different emotions had warred within you for quite some time, until one day you looked up at the sound of chaotic laughter from Holtzmann, Erin standing in front of her looking indignant. The physicist had flailed wildly, made a loud reference to some joke you weren’t part of, and Holtz had laughed even harder. And when the small smile had spread across Erin’s face, you’d prepared for the twist of jealousy to hit.

And it never did.

Instead, as you watched them make each other happy, you experienced a rush of joy you hadn’t expected. Patty had given you a weird look as you abruptly excused yourself, and you hoped she didn’t get the wrong impression. But the feeling had hit like a freight train, and you knew you could never even begin to explain it until you were able to process it yourself, so running was the best option. At least temporarily.

You’d taken refuge in the bathroom, studying yourself critically in the mirror. Yes, definitely happy for them; no, actually not jealous at all. You’d seen with your own eyes the ways in which they were making their slow path towards each other. And it was why you couldn’t just go around crying happy tears at the realization; they weren’t there quite yet, Erin didn’t like attention, and Holtz didn’t do well with emotions. It would make their trek that much longer, of that you had been certain.

Once you were collected, you’d opened the door to find Erin waiting in the hall. She’d looked at you with such concern, it made your stupid heart swell again.

“You ok? You kinda ran off, and Patty said she had no clue why…”

“Can I be weird for a second?” At her uncertain nod, you’d smiled and continued. “I’m just really glad to have you back in my life, and to see you happier than you ever were the first time. And I’m glad Holtz and Patty are part of it, and Kevin too in his own way. It all just hit me at once.”

“So... you were so happy you ran to the bathroom?” And there was no stopping your laughter at the baffled expression on her face.

“I’m not ready to go full Holtzmann and randomly bare my soul to everyone.” Her eyes had lit with understanding, and without another word she’d wrapped you in a hug, squeezing like she’d still been making up for lost time. You, of course, had hugged her back just as tightly, satisfied with your answer. It hadn’t been the full truth, but it had hit the crux of it and that would have to do.

Now, a couple months removed from that moment of clarity, you find yourself watching again as they interact in small, private ways. The loud laughter and and wild movements of the last moment have been replaced by whispered words, soft smiles, and tender touches. They’re working on an upgrade for a trap, Holtzmann wanting Erin’s expertise on equations to guide the power boost. They’re not there yet - on either the project or the next step in their relationship - but as you observe the ease with which they move together, you find yourself optimistic that it’s not far off.

And this time, at least, you don’t feel compelled to hide your smile.


	2. Kevin Beckman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments on the beginning! I'm having fun with this, and I hope you are too. Here's Kevin, picking up (slowly) on what's going on.

Something’s different.

It’s hard to say what; weird things happen all the time around here, and frankly, you’re pretty sure you don’t even see half of it.

But something’s different.

It’s not the proto-plasmo-projection shield thing Holtzmann is demonstrating. Well, ok, that actually is new and different, and incredibly hard to remember the name of, but it’s not the thing you’ve been trying to figure out. It’s not the fact that Abby is actually making lunch today rather than ordering Chinese; she’s been doing that a bit more lately, so that no longer seems so odd. It’s not the fact that Patty has spent the day writing something on a whiteboard, while Erin has spent it with her nose buried in a book; it feels like a role reversal, but that’s not what’s throwing you off.

But something is different.

The day goes by, and apparently you miss a few phone calls, if Abby’s annoyance is anything to judge by. Hey, we can’t all be perfect. The strange thing is still there, and you still don’t know what it is. When they gear up and leave for a call - you answered that one, and you’re pretty sure you got the important details right, and you’re pleased because you’ve been working really hard on what Patty refers to as attention to detail - you find yourself wandering through the station, trying to figure it out.

Because something’s different.

But with the team gone, it suddenly feels calm. Whatever it is, it has to do with them. You briefly wonder if maybe someone is possessed again; that would be different. But surely they’d know, and they wouldn’t just run off on a call with a ghost amongst them. Would they? No, surely not. When they return less than an hour later, they’re all very excited, especially Erin; apparently the plasmic-fission-slime shield whatever thing had worked well, and Erin finally isn’t covered in goo. You’re glad, because sometimes she leaves a trail around the station and it’s very slippery. You broke your favorite glasses last time it happened.

But that’s still not the thing that’s different.

When they all get changed and come back downstairs and Abby calls to order pizza, you notice Erin and Holtzmann sit together on one oversized chair. You can hear Erin expressing her thanks for the new device; apparently it made the job much more enjoyable for her. You can hear how pleased Holtzmann sounds, even as she swears it was nothing. You can hear surprising happiness in Abby’s voice when she tells them to get a room already, and the humor in Patty’s when she shoos Abby away. You’re not sure what it all means, and you ponder it as you start closing out your email and your card games. A soft laugh makes you look back up, and it’s just in time to see Erin lean in and kiss Holtzmann, slow and gentle. When she finally pulls back, Holtz wraps her arms and rests her head on Erin’s shoulder. Erin, settled on Holtzmann’s lap, presses a kiss to the side of her face before leaning her head against Holtzmann’s.

Well that was different.

It settles the anxiety you’ve been feeling all day; you were afraid the different thing was a bad thing, but seeing them now, you’re sure it’s actually a very good thing. You’re fairly sure this must be something that’s been going on for a bit; you’re not stupid, and you’ve been in relationships before. This kind of closeness doesn’t develop overnight. You wonder if you’ve just been missing it, or if they’re just now choosing to be open about it at the station. You try to think back over the last few weeks, but it doesn’t help. They spend a lot of time together lately, but they always have. They touch a lot, not like they are now though, and you do vaguely remember them sitting a lot closer together while watching the news a few times over the last week. It still doesn’t really tell you how long it’s been. You suppose it doesn’t matter.

Different, after all, can be good.


	3. Jennifer Lynch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lynch ends up on a call with the team, and gets to evaluate more than just their professional performance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's quite a bit longer; Jen Lynch had a lot more to say than I'd anticipated.

You’ve known these women for a little over a year now, and you’ve never felt this kind of tension between them before. Even the first day they were brought into Mayor Bradley’s office - there was certainly tension, but compared to how stifling the atmosphere in the firehouse is today, that was nothing.

You’ve been here for about 10 minutes, and you’re not sure yet what the problem is, just that one definitely exists. Dr. Yates, who usually handles these meetings with you, is home sick; Miss Tolan is at the library (and, if this has been going on for any length of time, you wonder if maybe it’s an escape mechanism); you’re left with Dr. Gilbert and Dr. Holtzmann, and none of the usual banter you’ve come to associate with the duo. You should be relieved, you remind yourself; you’re constantly asking them to act just a bit like professional - especially Holtzmann. The short answers, lack of music and dancing, and absence of workplace-inappropriate flirting should be exactly what you want.

Instead, you find it makes you far more uncomfortable than you’d ever imagined. You try to tell yourself, as Dr. Holtzmann discusses her latest designs in a flat monotone, that you’re only concerned because you need this team to be functioning properly. It has nothing to do with the fact that you actually rather like these people, and actually have come to enjoy meeting at the more relaxed firehouse for your regular check-ins. When Dr. Holtzmann finishes, and Dr. Gilbert begins droning on about the financials, you find yourself fighting a frown.

It’s a relief when the phone rings. Dr. Holtzmann is out of her seat and running to it before you or Dr. Gilbert can even move a muscle. You both listen as she handles the caller, and even before she’s done speaking, it seems Dr. Gilbert knows exactly what she needs to be doing.

“I’ll grab jumpsuits and call Patty,” she yells as she hurries upstairs.

“I’m getting packs loaded,” Dr. Holtzmann replies, disappearing into the garage. They’re suddenly on the same page again, and you think maybe the call to action has helped fix things. Maybe the recent quiet was the problem to begin with.

“Patty said she’ll meet us there. I told her I was pretty sure we could handle it, but I’d call and let her know if we get there and find differently,” Dr. Gilbert notes when they reconvene. Dr. Holtzmann nods, and then turns to you.

“You coming?”

“I’m sorry, what?” you manage. If Dr. Gilbert’s stare is any indication, she didn’t expect that any more than you did.

“You’re here to check on our progress. What better way than to see it in action?” 

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Dr. Gilbert says tightly. Dr. Holtzmann shrugs.

“Up to her. I still say seeing it first hand is the best way to evaluate.” It’s a valid point, and it’s the only reason you find yourself in the backseat of the Ecto a few moments later. It has nothing to do with curiosity about how long this spat can actually last. The silence in the front seat only makes it about four minutes into the drive.

“Holtz, we need to get gas.”

“I am aware,” comes the terse reply, and Dr. Gilbert just nods sharply. Fingers drumming on her thigh, she only lasts another three minutes before she speaks again.

“Seriously, it’s low enough that the gas warning light came on.”

“Yep. And I know exactly how far we can go with that light on before this bad boy struggles. Calm down, Erin.”

“Of course you do,” Dr. Gilbert grumbles, crossing her arms. “You know, not everything in life needs to be pushed to the breaking point before you do something about it.” Dr. Holtzmann’s eyes dart to the rearview mirror; lacking anywhere else to look, all you can do meet her gaze for the brief moment until she looks away.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Dr. Gilbert sighs. “This is me, just calming down and shutting up.” Dr. Holtzmann snorts, but the other woman ignores it. She makes a sharp left turn, shooting a sideways glance at her companion as if daring her to say something. Dr. Gilbert just clenches her jaw and resolutely stares out the window. Thankfully, that last turn has brought the vehicle to your destination. You never knew a 12 minute car ride could be so excruciating.

You exit the vehicle, studying the small lawn and garden center and waiting for direction from one of the Ghostbusters, who are silently gearing up at the back of the car. You take the opportunity to study them intently. Despite the anger that is clearly simmering between them, they are still remarkably in tune, physically; they wordlessly hand over various parts to one another, each instinctively helping the other strap everything in place. You can’t help but think it’s a good sign.

“Our unwanted guest was last spotted hurling some ornamental shrubbery at the owner,” Dr. Holtzmann explains as they walk back over to you.

“Please tell me it was preceded by our client saying ‘Bring me a shrubbery!’” Dr. Gilbert pleads. Her companion lets out a surprised laugh.

“He didn’t clarify. We can be sure to ask.” She turns to face you. “You might want to stay by the car. Should be able to see most everything, but if something vaguely green and angry flies your way, you might consider running.” You can feel yourself gaping at her.

“Thanks for the tip.” With a grin, she and Dr. Gilbert head for the fence. You watch in some degree of awe as a PKE meter leads them forward. Yes, it’s been over a year, but you’d spent the previous 30 believing ghosts were no more than a bedtime story; it seems reasonable to still sometimes be surprised about it.

It’s not long before you hear a surprised yelp and see what looks like a young Japanese Maple tree flying through the air. You watch the Ghostbusting duo split up, working seamlessly to draw the spirit in between them. It’s working well, and Dr. Holtzmann has a hand on a trap, ready to deploy it, when another entity appears not far behind Dr. Gilbert, a large potted bush floating up beside it. Dr. Holtzmann spots it immediately, swearing loudly and forgetting about the trap as she runs towards her partner. Dr. Gilbert looks stunned as she’s tackled to the ground, but realization dawns as the heavy pottery flies over them. Then they’re both up and running, regrouping at a safe distance.

“You know, you could just tell me to get down, instead of risking your ass to save mine,” Dr. Gilbert points out heatedly.

“Yeah, well, if you’d trust me and actually get down when I tell you to, instead of turning to check for yourself, maybe I could do that,” Dr. Holtzmann spits in reply.

“Holtz, I do trust you.” She sounds sincerely confused, and even at a distance, you don’t miss the huff of annoyance from the engineer.

“Great to hear. Sure didn’t seem like it when you got knocked out by a dead baseball player last time you didn’t take my warning.”

“Seriously? That was 3 weeks ago, the Mets are my favorite team, and damn it, we’re both scientists. You have the urge to verify things for yourself just as much as I do.”

“Right. Well, trust me when I say we better move - now.” They split again, narrowly avoiding a full pallet of mulch.

“Ok, are these bitches seriously trying to work through their relationship issues while being attacked by pissy mariners from the 1800s?” You startle; you hadn’t even heard Miss Tolan’s taxi pull up to the driveway. She’s at the back of the Ecto, zipping up her jumpsuit and grabbing a pack.

“The Mariners suck!” Dr. Gilbert calls.

“Not the baseball team, ghost girl. Actual sailors who usually died horribly.”

“Explains their terrible aim,” Dr. Holtzmann jokes, and you shake your head.

“All right, Patty, can you get in behind the bigger one and distract him for a moment? We can box up the other one quickly if he’ll leave us alone, and then all 3 of us can grab the big guy.”

“Erin, I swear to God if you’re trying to make me the bait so you can avoid slime…”

“Nope! My shield is working quite nicely.” With backup on hand, they do box the first ghost quickly, but the act seems to enrage the remaining spirit even more. It screams, a brutally ear-piercing noise, and then throws both arms out. In a matter of seconds, every inanimate object in the garden center is levitating at least 4 feet off the ground.

“Lynch, get behind the car,” Dr. Holtzmann calls, and you don’t hesitate. You can still see pretty clearly as she darts between a floating row of roses, closer to the car. You also have an almost front-row seat for the sight and sound of a fairly large glass planter hitting her in the back, sending her sprawling to the ground.

“Holtz!” The panic in Dr. Gilbert’s voice is clear; though she’s slow to get up, Dr. Holtzmann waves her off.

“I’m fine. Positions, let’s triangulate this bastard.” When three streams hit the specter from three different angles, everything that had been levitating begins to fall. He’s still not going down without a fight; various plants and garden tools are sent flying, many of them narrowly avoiding one of the women. You realize you’re holding your breath, but there’s not much you can do to convince yourself otherwise at this point. You flinch as Miss Tolan barely dodges a pair of pruning shears, and somehow still manages to hold her stream steady.

“Erin, trap!” Dr. Holtzmann calls.

“On three,” Dr. Gilbert replies. On her count, the trap is thrown, the Ghostbusters close in, and finally the spirit is sucked down. The quiet in the aftermath is almost as deafening as the noise before had been. You stand and approach the women, alarmed at the trickle of blood from Dr. Holtzmann’s nose and lip.

“That could have been avoided,” Dr. Gilbert sighs. Miss Tolan grimaces, silently reaching down to pick up the trap and taking it to the back of the car.

“Not really. One of us had to move to get into position for that, and whoever it was was at risk.”

“So you just get to be the one to decide that?”

“It worked,” Dr. Holtzmann states flatly before pulling away and going to take a seat in the back of the car, where Miss Tolan has already claimed the drivers spot. Dr. Gilbert clenches her jaw and takes a deep breath, not even sparing you a glance as she follows the others.

Dr. Holtzmann had invited you along supposedly to evaluate them; you’re sure she didn’t intend to give you this much non-work-related material to sift through. As the vehicle rolls back down the road, you find yourself wondering about the rift, which currently feels wider and darker than you would ever imagine one to be between them. Miss Tolan is obviously acutely aware of it, and her comment earlier indicates it isn’t a new development. You hope - professionally speaking, of course - that this isn’t going to be the end of a truly unique partnership.

With that thought heavy in your mind, you turn your attention from the city outside, taking in the occupants of the vehicle again. And that’s when you notice it. They aren’t speaking, or even making direct eye contact, but they’re communicating all the same. Dr. Gilbert’s front-focused gaze occasionally drifts to the rearview mirror, taking stock of Dr. Holtzmann; she, in turn, has shifted enough so that her leg is stretched out and resting alongside Dr. Gilbert’s seat, where a hand is loosely draped across her ankle. Connection. Comfort. You re-evaluate, yet again.

Things aren’t so dire after all. This, too, shall pass.


	4. Megan Adrestia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun story: on Monday night, there was a tragic accident involving my laptop and the kitchen floor. The floor is fine; the laptop is toast. And I wasn’t even debate-drunk yet when it happened…
> 
> So that explains the delay in posting this one; it’s been mostly-done and just in need of another read-through, but I can’t handle doing that on my phone. It also means the next and final bit will probably take longer than expected. I’m going to try to have it done before I leave town this weekend, but if not, I should be able to get it done early next week.

The passage of time is a funny thing.

You know you’re dead; you’re afraid it would come as a great shock to you otherwise. But, you are aware. You remember every moment of how it happened. It had been painful, bloody, and drawn out, and when it was over, you were relieved. And then, as it turns out, it’s not over; you’re still here, in a manner of speaking.

You’d always heard - from people who believed in that sort of stuff - that people who die with unfinished business are the ones who haunt the Earth after they’ve departed. It always sounded logical, but you had no unfinished business. Sure, you hadn’t made it home to feed the dog that night, and you feel bad about that. But surely someone realized you were dead and fed poor Charlotte, right? That hardly seems enough to tie you here.

But anyway, time. You remember when you died, but it means nothing. You have no idea how long it’s been. It mostly just feels like you’ve been sleeping, and every now and then you become aware of the world again. Maybe this is just what happens to everyone after they die. Hard to say; the afterlife doesn’t seem to have a functioning HR department, so there’s been no orientation.

You are, for whatever reason, awake and aware again now, and you’re trying to interact with the world. It’s what anyone would do if they’d been out of it a while. But for the first time since you died, someone actually sees you. They just… don’t seem so excited about it. To be precise, the man yells and throws a book at you.

Who does that?

You can’t help laughing at him, and that just upsets him further. He screams, throws salt (you hope he doesn’t expect you to clean that up. What was he trying to accomplish anyway?) and then takes off running down the stairs. You’d initially been interested in having company, but now you’re glad he’s gone. He was clearly not committed to being friends, and that’s the one thing you long for in this afterworld. You’ve been alone too long. You don’t know how long, exactly, but you miss companionship. You’d thought to keep him with you, but he clearly doesn’t fit the bill.

Left to your own devices, you float around and check out the area. This is a perk of being dead; walls were always so inconvenient. Nothing here is familiar. You thought ghosts were supposed to haunt people or places they knew. Shit, you can’t even be dead right. That’s a depressing thought.

The brief thrill of walls being unable to hold you back diminishes as soon as you try to float out the window, only to find you just…. can’t. You appear to be stuck here, wherever here is. What kind of shit is that? This whole situation is starting to irritate you. What’s a girl gotta do to just rest in peace these days?

Before your pity party can get too far, you hear voices from the floor below. Two of them, both female, distinct from one another.

“I’m just saying, last time we took a call and it was just us was the one with Lynch, and that’s been over 2 months. It’s just strange.”

“If Lynch was with us, how was it just us?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Plus, Patty got there in time to seal the deal.”

“Holtz.”

“Ok, ok. That one wasn’t our collective finest moment, huh?”

“Safe to say.”

“Maybe it’s their way of making us spend time with them separately. We have been a bit wrapped up in each other lately.”

“God, you think they feel neglected? We’re terrible friends.”

“No, we’re not. It’s ok to be focused on us. But look, I’m not getting anything in the kitchen. Upstairs?”

You linger, safely out of sight, waiting to see them appear first. You wonder if they might be more open to a visit than the guy had been. You see first a blonde head, oddly styled, and sporting interesting yellow glasses. Not far behind is a red-haired woman, a little more normal looking, aside from the very large and intricate pack she’s carrying. Both have one, actually. They come to the top of the stairs and stop, side by side, examining everything critically. The blonde reaches out for the other woman’s hand, squeezing it quickly. Nothing is said, but it seems to convey something all the same, as the redhead nods before taking the lead as they move away from the landing.

“You know we’d all be here, except they got that call to the pizza place down the street at the same time.”

“Yeah, why do they get the one with food?”

“Look at the bright side - maybe they’ll bring back dinner.” The redhead looks around carefully. “Colder up here.”

“Think we’re in business, babe,” the blonde replies with a wink. The redhead rolls her eyes, but her smile is vibrant.

“Focus, Holtz. Let’s see what the PKE meter has to say.” You watch in fascination as she holds up a slowly-spinning device; it picks up speed as she moves closer to you, her gaze focused on the tool.

“Erin,” the blonde - Holtz, apparently - says urgently. Her eyes are firmly on you, and you’re a bit surprised. “Erin,” she repeats, louder. The redhead looks up, and her eyes widen in surprise before she stumbles back a step. You frown at her, and she simply looks back up at you, unmoving. The staredown is ended by the blonde stepping forward.

“Hello,” she offers, somewhat hesitantly. “Can you, uh… can you understand me?” You nod, watching in interest as her eyes light up. “That’s awesome. Can you speak?”   
Well. You hadn’t thought about that. You’re not sure and that seems a bit silly, but then again, the last human you’d encountered hadn’t been interested in striking up a conversation. With a shrug, you open your mouth to give it a try, only to snap it shut when the redhead - Erin, you remind yourself - jumps back.

“Sorry, she didn’t mean anything by that,” Holtz rushes to assure you. “She’s had a few bad experiences with - oh, crap. Hey, uh, are you aware that you’re a ghost?”

“Way to break the news if not,” Erin whispers sharply, reaching out to poke Holtz in the side. Holtz swats her hand away, giving her an emphatic look. When Erin just shakes her head and sighs, Holtz reaches out to squeeze her hand, grinning before turning back to you. You watch the quick interaction with fascination until you realize they’re waiting for an answer.

“Yes, I am aware.” Your voice is scratchier than you were accustomed to, but hey - functional! Holtz grins brightly, reaching back to playfully slap Erin on the shoulder.

“Awesome!” She pauses for a moment, and then hurries on. “Ya know, not awesome that you’re dead, but that you can chat with us. That’s been somewhat rare so far.”

“Our caller said you were malevolent,” Erin cuts in, looking at you intently. You can’t help feeling offended.

“How would he know? He didn’t try to talk to me. He threw things at me and ran like a bitch.” Holtz hoots out a laugh, allowing the object - weapon? - in her hand to relax to her side. Erin, you note, keeps a firm grip on hers. You don’t think you like her very much. She shifts just a tad closer to Holtz, taking up a stance you can only think of as protective.

“You got a name?” Holtz inquires.

“Ok, sure, let’s make friends,” Erin sighs, still slightly behind the blonde woman.

“Megan Adrestia,” you offer, shooting Erin another glare.

“Cool. I’m Holtzmann, this is Erin. We are… paranormal researchers who specialize in helping with hauntings.” She says it so carefully, you’re sure there’s something she’s leaving out. You glance again at their packs, wondering.

“So you’re here to help me?”

“Yeeesss?” It’s not the most convincing answer, and her grimace indicates she realizes that too.

“We are here to help… everyone involved in this situation,” Erin offers. “Holtz, I really hope you have a plan here,” she adds quietly, making you wonder if she thinks you can’t hear her.

“Remember Patty and the old hospital haunting a while back? Maybe we can talk her through whatever’s keeping her here.” You turn to look at Holtz now. Seriously. You can hear them.

“Great, ghost therapist. My true calling at last.”

“What would you suggest? Shoot first and ask questions later?”

“It’s our usual MO and it seems to work ok!” You really can’t handle this.

“I’m sorry, you both realize I’m still right in front of you, right?”

“Yes! Um, about that. Do you perhaps know why you’re still here?” Holtz at least has the decency to look somewhat apologetic. You think you like this one.

“No, I can’t figure it out.”

“No unfinished business?” You shake your head. “No violent death?”

“Oh, it was very violent. Bloody. Painful. I remember it quite vividly. Random mugging gone bad, and when the guy realized I didn’t have anything of value, he stabbed me. 12 times.”

“That’s awful,” Erin gasps.

“And relevant. Violent deaths are the 2nd leading cause of post-mortality spectral manifestations,” Holtz offers.

“Did you just make that up?” Erin whispers. Holtz ignores her, pressing on with her questions.

“So, we know the why of it; what about the where? This the place where you lived - or died?”

“It’s not familiar. I didn’t live here. I couldn’t leave earlier though, so it’s possible the street outside is where it happened,” you note thoughtfully.

“All right, we’re making progress!” Holtz claps her hands, and you smile at her; yes, you like this one.

You think she should stay.

“What if we give the info we have to Patty, let her do her magic and see what she finds?” Erin suggests. “And then maybe she can come back here with us and help sort it out.”

“Sounds solid to me.” You don’t agree, and you frown when Holtz looks at you again.  
“So, Megan, we have a game plan here. We’re gonna collect a bit more info - this building, the streets outside, so on - and go meet up with a friend of ours. If anyone can tell us more about what’s going on with you, it’s her. We’ll bring her back here ASAP and -”

“No,” you cut in. Holtz falters.

“Uh, no? No what? Which part?” Beside her, Erin stiffens, hands flexing on her weapon. You’re getting irritated again.

“No to all of it! You’re not leaving.”

“Oh...kay… why, exactly? I thought we were all getting along nicely here.”

“Yes, and that’s exactly why.”

“Told you not to befriend the dead,” Erin groans. You can ignore her, for at least a little bit longer.

“Every living being I’ve seen since I died has been the same. Lots of crying, screaming, throwing things - occasionally, throwing themselves out of things.”

“LIke windows?” Holtz interrupts, sounding worried.

“Yes!” You hiss. “It’s not my fault I’m stuck here. I just want what anyone wants, a bit of companionship. You’re the first to actually talk to me. It’s a very tiresome existence, but I think it’d be less tiresome if you were here.”

“That’s almost sweet. Thing is, you’re dead and we’re not,” Holtz points out.

“Don’t give her ideas!”

“Point being, the living need certain things that the dead don’t. Like food. Water. Bathroom breaks. Pringles. I don’t know how long you’ve been dead, but living humans get grumpy without those, and then we’re not so companionable.” You do recall that, actually, so it probably hasn’t been all that long. But even a short period of pleasant interaction is better than none. And who knows, maybe if they both end up dead, they’ll be stuck here too.

Well that’s an idea.

“Holtz…”

“Yeah babe. Be ready.”

They’re sorta cute, you think. And they’re probably the kind of couple who says, sincerely and without irony, that they’d rather die than be apart, so really you may do them a favor if you just kill them both now. It wasn’t what you wanted to do; there’s no way to be sure they’ll be tied here with you, and then you’re just alone again until someone else comes along. But clearly, they don’t intend to live up to your expectations anyway.

“I’m very disappointed right now,” you sigh.

“Hey, the feeling’s mutual,” Holtz replies. “We were totally into the idea of chatting with you and helping you figure out how to get free of whatever’s keeping you here, but now you’re sounding kinda psycho-normal and we’re not so much into that.” Erin shifts so she’s fully behind Holtz then, and you can guess what’s coming before they make their move. When the redhead pops back out, weapon activated and pointed at you, you’re ready. You let yourself compress, and the stream sails harmlessly overhead. Fading out, you watch as Erin resets herself and Holtz fires up her own weapon. Neither of them can see you, your tiny particles hidden in shadows. It’s a handy trick you learned at some point post-mortem.

Erin grabs for her spinning meter again, and you know the jig is up; you’re pretty sure you can’t hide from that. You’re not all that happy about what has to happen now, but sacrifices must be made. You hope they’ll understand.

You move closer to them and allow yourself to reform quickly, the sudden atmospheric shift throwing both of them. Holtz crashes through a table, but bounces back up almost immediately; Erin hits a wall and is slower to recover. Holtz is closer and almost has her weapon back up, so you turn on her first. Recalling the edge in her voice when she’d asked about windows earlier, you make a quick calculation; with a flick of your hand, she’s flying again, crying out as her body shatters the bedroom window. She hits the floor, not as quick to recover this time. Blood runs down her arms as tries to push herself up, and you’re sure it’s going to leave a stain on the rug as she collapses again. You wonder absently if you can find a way to keep her here.

Before you can give it too much consideration, you’re surrounded by what feels like a ring of fire. Screaming, you turn to see Erin, back on her feet and resolutely firing at you. It’s a terrible feeling, not quite as bad as being stabbed, but certainly worse than anything else since you died. The ring has your arms pinned to your sides, but you can see how much of a toll it’s taking on Erin. You’re pretty sure you can wait her out as long as Holtz stays down.

“Jillian! C’mon honey, I need you!” And now you see the distress in Erin’s face, the way her partner’s still form is distracting her, and you know just how to press the advantage.

“I really liked her, I want you to know that. I’m sorry for your loss.” Her eyes widen and cut to Holtz; her steady aim falters for just a moment, and it’s enough. You dive into the now-wandering stream, forcing it and you both to surge back into the barrel of her gun. You bail out when the heat becomes overwhelming, reforming just in time to see the weapon explode in her hands and send Erin tumbling down the stairs. She hits the bottom and doesn’t move again. You smile.

“Erin!” You’re caught off-guard by the small figure streaking past you. Oh no, you’re not done with her yet. You reach out and catch her by the back of the neck, swinging her around and throwing her into a wall. There’s an audible crack as she collides with it, and you wonder what it was. When she stumbles to her knees, cradling her left arm, you suppose you have your answer.

“I didn’t really like her,” you inform Holtz, glancing down at Erin. “I’m not really sorry about that one.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not so sorry that you got stabbed 12 times. If anything, you may have deserved a few more.” The animosity in her eyes is undeniable, and you can feel the rage twisting your own face.

“I’m not so sure I want to spend any more time with you,” you huff.

“This whole thing is because you didn’t want to be alone, and all it takes is one little fight to go back on it?” she snorts. “I want you to know, we have unfinished business of our own. I got higher priorities right now though.” With a quickness you don’t expect from an injured human, she yanks something off her belt, throws it at your feet, and slides down the stairs. Before you can move to stop her, the item she threw explodes and you find yourself frozen in motion.

You can only watch as she reaches the bottom, wraps her right arm around Erin’s body, and yanks them both towards the door. She knows you can’t follow, even once you’re unstuck. God, friendship after death is so hard.

You can just barely see out the front window, but it’s enough to spot Holtz pulling Erin to a white car out front. She drags the redhead to the back seat, drops her pack in the front, and then hops into the drivers seat and guns it.

You sigh heavily. You have no idea how long you’ll be stuck like this, or when Holtz will be back to resolve your ‘unfinished business.’

You only hope, when she does come back, it will be with the news that Erin is dead.


	5. Patty Tolan

_So much for early last week. The dead laptop thing is a Real Problem for my writing efforts. I thought maybe I could stay late at work a couple nights and get it done there, but that turned out to be impossible when there was a 4 day stretch where the earliest I left was midnight. No lie._

_It was not intentional, but these just kept getting longer as each chapter went. Maybe not necessarily a bad thing, but now I feel like Abby got gypped with how little time we spent with her back in the beginning. Patty just had a lot of feelings, you guys. And a lot more than one moment to get through._

\------

You’d watched quietly as the ER nurse attended to Holtzy. You hadn’t left her side since arriving at the hospital, just as Abby hadn’t left Erin’s vicinity. Holtz hadn’t said a word since her frantic phone call over an hour prior, and that worried you as much as any physical damage.

She’d been staring blankly at the x-rays on the screen; you’re no radiologist, but it was plain to see that both bones in her forearm were broken. The doctor had tried to talk through the injuries and options, but the blonde was clearly not hearing any of it; even after the x-ray screen was turned off, Holtz simply continued staring at it, unseeing.

“Should I be concerned about a head injury? Is this normal behavior?” It had taken a moment for you to realize that the doctor was talking to you.

“I mean, normal for the circumstances, I guess.” The doctor hummed thoughtfully, looking back over Holtzy’s chart for a moment.

“All right, I think we’re done here. It’s a clean break, so it shouldn’t require surgical intervention, but we’ll need to see you back here in 48 hours to put a full cast on it, Dr. Holtzmann.” Once again, there was no response, and you found yourself suspecting that Holtz wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. The smaller woman followed you out wordlessly, left arm in a sling cradled to her chest and eyes on the floor. You’d promptly found Abby, pacing the waiting room right outside the OR.

“Any word?” She shook her head, and you gave her the rundown on Holtzy. You settled into a seat on Holtzmann’s left, and Abby eventually made her way over to the other side. Finally, the doors opened and a doctor stepped through, eyes seeking out your group. Holtz was out of her seat and standing in front of him before the doors even closed behind him.

“Dr. Gilbert came through surgery well, but she has a long road ahead. Her spleen ruptured; it was a small tear, so we opted to repair rather than remove, but it’ll need to be monitored closely. Four broken ribs, dislocated right shoulder, fractured right clavicle, and second degree burns to both hands. More concerning is the head trauma: Dr. Gilbert suffered an acute subdural hematoma. We were able to reduce it without invasive surgery, which is a good sign. We’ll evaluate motor responses again in 36 hours and that should give us a better idea of her prognosis going forward. As it stands right now-”

“She’s in a coma,” Holtzmann had stated flatly, and you’re pretty sure the tone of her voice was enough to stop your heart.

“Yes. Medically induced to give enough time for the swelling to go down further, but yes.” Holtz dropped her head and let Abby take over the questions. You’d tuned out, focusing your attention on the other woman as she pressed her lips together and squeezed her eyes shut. You didn’t miss the tears that managed to slip out, but for once you were at a loss. You generally pride yourself on being good at comforting people, even strangers, but in that moment you were afraid it would break what remained of the woman next to you. You’d stayed silent as the doctor escorted you and your friends down a hallway to Erin’s room in the ICU.

“Holtzy, baby, you go on in. Me and Abby’s got a few things to talk about.” She wordlessly took a deep breath before pushing the door open. There was a brief silence after she disappeared, and then Abby’s shuddering sob filled the quiet space. You’d grabbed her hand and pulled her around the corner for a bit of privacy before wrapping her in a tight hug, your own tears falling silently. You allowed yourselves a few minutes of your own grief before Abby pulled away, wiping her eyes and taking slow breaths.

“I don’t know what the hell to do next, Patty,” she admitted.

“First, we go in and see Erin ourselves. Then, we bring some food back for Holtzy and call it a night. We know she ain’t leavin’ so we can at least try to get her to eat. And tomorrow, we do what we do best.” Abby eyed you for a moment; you weren’t sure she was on the same page as you just yet, but she’d get there. 

You both paused as you reached the door; you could hear Holtzmann’s quiet voice, but couldn’t make out what she was saying to Erin. As soon as the door started to open, the voice went silent. She didn’t look up as the two of you entered, but you didn’t expect her to.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise, but somehow it was - Erin looked so small, fragile. Both hands loosely bandaged well above the wrist, and bruises already showing on her face and arms. You were glad you couldn’t see what the rest of her looked like. Holtzy was sitting as close to the bed as she could get, her right hand resting on Erin’s arm. 

Abby moved to the other side of the bed, leaning in and observing Erin’s face. She reached a hand out, gently touching her oldest friend’s cheek, and you could see she was trying not to cry again. Eventually, she pulled away and turned to study Holtzmann. The engineer didn’t so much as twitch under the scrutiny, and you were faintly impressed; you didn’t know the woman could be so still.

“Jilly, we’re gonna go get some food and see if we can’t pick up your prescriptions for you. You have any requests?” Holtz shook her head slightly, and Abby sighed. “All right. Be back soon.”

“You know you don’t gotta be strong for her the whole time,” you noted. “She knows that’s your best friend in there.”

“Yeah,” Abby agreed miserably. “I think I’m just trying to wait on the tests to figure out just how freaked out I should be. And until then, the last thing she needs is to feel like she’s not supporting me. We don’t know all the details yet, but I get the feeling she’s blaming herself somehow.”

“Of course she is. She’s Holtzy. She thinks it’s always her fault if a bust goes bad.”

“Yeah, but this is different. It’s… more.” You’d wrapped an arm around her, and the rest of the walk to the sandwich shop down the street was quiet.

That had been six days ago.

Even in the light of the next morning, things still looked grim; Holtz obviously hadn’t touched the food you’d gotten her the night before, and it didn’t look like she’d gotten much sleep either. She’d at least finally been communicative.

“Morning, Pats.”

“Hey baby. Brought you some breakfast - and I’m not leaving until you eat.” Her ensuing frown had made it clear she intended to argue, so you’d simply shaken your head at her. “Nope. Erin Gilbert is small but mighty, and when she wakes the hell up, I ain’t gonna be the one to blame for letting you waste away. She’s not scary the same way you are, but hell nah on taking that chance.” Holtzy had actually cracked a smile at that before accepting the breakfast burrito you offered. Abby had bustled in a few moments later, two coffees in hand, and it hadn’t taken long for Holtzmann to realize you were both wearing jumpsuits. The half-eaten burrito slowly lowered to her lap as she looked back and forth.

“Uh… got a call?” she’d finally ventured. You and Abby had exchanged glance; you’d hoped she’d be finished eating before this conversation started.

“Kind of…” You’d never been one to beat around the bush, but for some reason you struggled with that one. Her eyes had darted over to where Abby stood, looking at Erin.

“Abby?”

“Holtz, it’s gotta get done.”

“Not right away. Not without me. I should be there, Abby.”

“Baby, we don’t disagree with that, but we can’t let this one stay free,” you’d interjected.

“She’s right. This bitch has already hurt two of ours, and we’re gonna take her down. Hard. Against our better judgement, Patty and I agreed that you can come with us if you really want to. But between your arm and Erin’s… everything… we kinda figured you’d rather stick here.” Holtz had sighed heavily.

“I can’t leave her. What if she wakes up alone?”

“We know, and we agree - you should stay with her. But we can’t let this one wait. We don’t know how long it’ll be, and we don’t know how many more people she could hurt between now and then.”

“Yeah, all right. You guys go.” That had set off an alarm in your mind; Holtzy never gave in that easily.

“We need to know what happened in there yesterday.” Holtz had looked at you miserably, obviously knowing the question was coming.

“It’s my fault,” she’d all but whispered, closing her eyes. “Erin wanted to just bust it and go, but… she communicated with us. Clearer than anything we’ve come across in a long time, and I wanted to find out more.”

“Doesn’t make it your fault,” you’d interrupted firmly. “Dead chick is to blame here, not you.” Holtz had shot you a look that you were pretty sure was meant to be grateful, but came across more like a grimace. Then she’d taken a breath and launched into a short, almost clinical recap of the encounter yesterday. When she was done, you were sure you and Abby both had all the motivation you could possibly need to kick some spectral ass.

“Be careful. Text me when it’s done so I know… either way.” 

“We will. And Holtz - we know what we’re dealing with, going into it. You and Erin didn’t. We’ll be fine.” Abby had squeezed her shoulder tightly, and the two of you headed out. This time, when her gentle voice started, you were able to pick up the beginning of her conversation with Erin.

“You hear that, Er? Our girls are gonna take care of her for us.” It brought a smile as you walked out to the car.

The smile was gone a short time later as you and Abby approached the house.

“What’re the odds she’s still frozen by Holtzy’s prototype?” you’d wondered optimistically.

“Our luck, probably not good. I hope she makes more. Sounds useful.” You’d followed close behind as Abby opened the door, and you’d both immediately looked to the top of the stairs. No luck. But, as Holtz predicted, the dead woman was eager for company; Abby hadn’t even gotten the PKE meter out when a voice floated down.

“Oh Holtz, is that you? I’ve missed you.”

“Creepy much?” Abby whispered. A moment later, the ghost had materialized, frowning down at both of you intently.

“You’re not Holtz. How disappointing.”

“You’d be surprised how often we hear that,” Abby had joked, taking a step back. You could see what she was doing; the staircase was not an ideal location, so she was luring the ghost down.

“You must be friends. Do tell me, how long did it take Erin to die? My own death was a couple hours, and I’ve been hoping hers was longer.” Abby’s entire body had tensed with rage, so you’d taken over.

“Hate to crush your dreams, but she ain’t dead. In fact, she’s gonna be with us for a long time to come.” Anger had immediately contorted the dead woman’s face, and the temperature of the room dropped noticeably. Seconds later, books began falling down the stairs, followed quickly by increasingly larger objects. When an entire couch appeared at the top, you’d grabbed Abby’s arm and darted to the kitchen. Thankfully, the spirit had chosen to follow rather than retreat back up.

You both fully intended to make her pay for that.

You’d taken up spots on opposite sides of the room, Abby pulling out her proton gun while you geared up your ghost chipper in one hand and a proton grenade in the other. As soon as the ghost crossed the threshold, Abby was firing, drawing her full attention. The kitchen table flew, shattering against a wall and narrowly missing Abby. When she had the ghost in position, you tossed the grenade. Despite being obviously weakened, the spirit threw open the kitchen drawers, and various utensils began swirling through the air.

“Hell no, we are done!” You’d charged in with the ghost chipper, hearing one final piercing shriek before the ghost was sucked through. Kitchen implements clattered to the ground, and then it had been nothing but silence.

“We have got to talk to Holtz about which ghosts she befriends. That one was off her rocker from the get go,” Abby had sighed, pulling out her phone to text the engineer.

“I dunno. Up until she started throwing everything at us, I could see how she’d be intriguing to talk to.” One final sweep with the PKE meter had shown the place clear, so you had called the owner while Abby drove back to the station.

That had been five days ago.

The two of you had stopped for breakfast and coffee again the morning Erin’s tests were due. Holtz had, once again, been talking to Erin when you and Abby arrived, only to immediately stop when the door opened. She’d accepted the coffee appreciatively and made a half-hearted attempt at eating the egg and cheese bagel, but you couldn’t hold it against her. She’d then paced the waiting room while Erin was taken back, stopping only when the doctor reappeared.

“She’s back in her room if you’d like to come in there for the update.” Holtz had frozen in fear, so you’d grabbed her right hand and squeezed.

“C’mon girl, it’s gonna be good news. Let’s go find out what’s going on in that beautiful head of hers.” 

“Erin’s showing strong motor and pupillary responses, which is an excellent indicator of a good recovery. Scans show the swelling has gone down enough for us to ease off the sedation. At that point, it’s up to her how long it takes her to fully wake up. That length of time, as well as how she responses to basic stimuli once she does, will give us a much clearer idea of her recovery. This is a very promising start, and we have a lot to be optimistic about.” He’d lingered briefly, discussing things with Abby that you’d once again tuned out in favor of watching Holtz. Her response had been far more subdued than you’d expected for good news.

A few hours later, Abby had gone out for a walk and to pick up some pizza while you stayed with Erin and Holtz. You occasionally heard the blonde mumbling something to her girlfriend, but never clear enough for you to pick up. Half an hour after Abby had left, a nurse popped her head into the room.

“Dr. Holtzmann? They’re ready to put the regular cast on your arm.” The panic on her face had been enough to tell you she’d forgotten about the follow up. “It’ll only take about 20 minutes,” the nurse added, obviously picking up on her distress.

“Go on Holtzy, s’okay. I’ll hang with Gilbert here until you get done. By then, I bet Abby’s back with lunch, so we can eat and then you can take a shower ‘cause trust me, you don’t want the first thing Erin smells to be you right now.” The ramble had worked; Holtzy had quirked a smile and followed the nurse out, leaving you alone with Erin for the first time. You’d thought over the times you’d heard Holtz talking to her, and all the things you’d heard about patients like her, and then shrugged to yourself.

“Hey, G-Woman. Yeah, your girl’s gone, but she’ll be back soon. I’m sure you know that. Listen, I know they just cut the meds a bit ago, but you really gotta start finding your way back. Your girl’s lost without you. It’s scary, man, not gonna lie. We all miss ya. If you need a bit of motivation, I got you - I been watching Holtzy a lot the last couple days. If there’s one thing I’m sure of right now, it’s this: if we lose you, we gonna lose Holtzy, too. Baby, she don’t wanna do this without you. And Abby - how the hell could she function losing both of you? And then that leaves just me, and baby girl, that is not happening.” You’d sighed, leaning back and studying her for a long moment before shaking your head. “So yeah, no pressure, but you best come on back to us. Quick.”

Abby had returned a few minutes later, and Holtz rushed back in not long after that. Her left arm was now encased in a bright green cast that featured little ghosts all over it. She’d offered a faint grin as you and Abby laughed before diving into the pizza.

That had been four days ago.

Your realization about Holtz had lingered in your mind well after you’d talked to Erin about it. The more you thought, the more you realized it was true. They were so entrenched in one another’s lives, you knew she’d never really be Holtzy again if she didn’t have Erin. Yes, Erin was going to live and you’d all embraced that, but what if she fell into the 30 percent with a negative outcome, post-coma? Worse, what if she never made it out at all?

You’d always been slow to deal with hard emotions, so it didn’t surprise you that it had taken time for anxiety to hit. Holtz had been living in it since the moment it happened; Abby had cried her way through that first night before resolving to ‘woman up’ and deal with it. You… you’d pushed it all down until that talk yesterday had forced it to the front.

Breakfast in hand, you’d headed to the hospital as normal, and paused at the door when you heard Holtzmann’s voice, far more animated than it had been recently. You’d held your breath for a moment, listening and wondering if maybe it meant Erin was coming back. The conversation stayed one-sided, and you’d quickly realized Holtz was just using Erin as a sounding board for theories on which local bridge would be the best hangout if one happened to be a literal troll.

Only Holtzy…

She’d offered you a smile as she took the food, but it was the kind that didn’t reach her eyes. You didn’t stay long, just enough to make sure Holtz ate and to remind her to text you if she needed anything. You’d then opted to walk the long distance back to the firehouse, needing both air and space to clear your head a bit.

That had been three days ago.

Your funk had persisted. Two days ago, you’d stopped in with food, only to find Holtz curled up on the bed, as close to Erin as she could get. You’d set the bag on a table and once again walked back to the station. Yesterday, you’d asked Abby to take breakfast; she’d given you a worried look, but no argument. You hadn’t left the firehouse at all that day.

This morning, you feel more yourself, and also more guilty for not going yesterday. So you pick up the least-healthy breakfast bowl you can find - all meat, cheese, and potatoes, none of those veggies Holtz always grumbles about - and a couple of muffins on your way in. As has become standard, you stop at the door and listen for a moment. And then you find yourself unable to move as you hear something that’s been missing for a week: the unmistakable sound of Jillian Holtzmann’s wild laughter. Either the woman has finally cracked, or Erin has finally woken up; there’s no way to be sure without going in, but you’re afraid of which one is the answer, and you stay rooted in place.

“Seriously, can you believe they took her out in like, 5 minutes? We are clearly the B-team of this squad, Er-bear.” You hold your breath, waiting to see if there’s a response.

“Right, where B apparently stands for bedridden…” And with that, you can finally move again, rushing in to smother both of them with hugs, trying not to exacerbate injuries in the process. When Erin cautiously taps your side with her bandaged hand, you finally release her and move back.

“So good to see you again.” You don’t even try to hide your tears.

“She returned to the land of the living 1 hour and 27 minutes ago,” Holtz announces proudly.

“All signs point to a full recovery,” Erin adds with a smile. “Full, but very slow.”

“Holtzy, did you text Abby?” Holtz freezes, eyes wide, then slowly looks around the room.

“My phone… is somewhere…”

“You should find that sometime, but I got this.” Shaking your head, you step back to the doorway and pull up Abby’s number. While you wait for her to answer, you observe Erin and Holtz again. They’re sharing one of the chocolate chip muffins you brought, Holtz pulling off chunks and feeding them to Erin, occasionally missing on purpose and leaving chocolate on her face. Erin doesn’t complain, just keeps a sharp eye on her girlfriend and elbow bumps her at the opportune moment, causing Holtz to streak chocolate on her own nose.

You know Erin and the doctor are both right; it’s going to be a long, slow road to recovery, in more ways than one. You could feel Erin’s pain in each breath she took while you hugged her, can see Holtzy’s in the way she won’t take her eyes away from Erin for long. And you can hear Abby’s in the worry when she finally answers her phone.

“Abby, you almost here? Good, yeah, it’s a good day. We’re not losing anyone, Abs. Not this time.”

Even once you hang up, you don’t fully re-enter the room. They both know you’re there if they need you, and that’s enough for you right now. Watching them reunite and take the first steps on the road to healing together is doing more to soothe your own fears than anything else has in the last few days. You finally recognize the engineer again; the withdrawn, anguished stranger who’d occupied her space recently is nowhere to be seen. The bright smile is as natural on her face as the sun is in the sky, and you want nothing more than to bask in the warmth of it. You close your eyes and let your own smile grow, listening once more as Holtz talks to Erin.

“So hey, do you remember any conversations from while you were… out?” Holtz suddenly asks. “Because if not, let me tell ya, we gotta go back over some of it because I really need to know your thoughts on bridge trolls…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all she wrote on this one! Thanks for the love, I really enjoyed delving into Holtzbert through the perspective of others and the comments were nothing but encouraging!


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